Scales of War

From the Streets to...Someplace Else.

Vutharash's first entry

I can’t remember how I got to the alley where I was attacked – I found myself wandering through the city while pondering on the way to see the Temple of Bahamut. I and my current traveling companions found ourselves in an ambush. Dark Creepers – foul things that will come to give me several more wounds over the next day or so.

We dispatched our attackers, finding a special key of some sort. I had found myself oddly interested in the group that the ambush was meant for. After inquiring further about the situation, I decided to follow them on their errand: tracking down and defeating a Dark Creeper called Modra. Modra seems to be a foul figure in these parts, but I would find myself in much deeper trouble as the days would soon reveal.

Tracking down Modra was difficult. He was nowhere, served by urchins and young, foolish souls that scurry about in the city. We had lost his trail until a Half-elf called Reniss provided us with the luck to uncover Modra’s trail. She was on a quest for revenge against Modra. We met Reniss in the Happy Beggar and later discovered a tunnel in the basement that lead into a strange cave, after dispatching some monsters,we discovered a small shrine with magical portals in it. The keepers were Dark Creepers and Sharda-kai, which attacked us, covering Modra’s escape. A Wraith was summoned to guard the portals as a last resort. I have seen many things in my life, but the undead are insidious and horrifying in the most unnatural of ways. I was struck by this wraith, and nearly died. Had I fallen, I surely would have joined the ranks of the undead. I was glad that I was in the company of two capable healers.

We decide that the opportunity is too great to let Modra Escape, so we use our key to follow him. Narrowly missing him again, we arrive in a strange place. A black place. An evil place. The landscape was of despair and darkness. We had entered the Shadowfel, overlooking Umbraforge – a large mercenary camp along a river of lava pouring from a dark volcano. In a short time we discovered that these mercenaries are invaders, and an invasion is brewing.

I write this as we rest, contemplating our next course of action. We are confronted with a choice. Do we continue after Modra, who now appears to play a petty part in this much larger threat? Do we run, taking this information back to anyone who has the resources to deal with this? Or do we stay, and attempt to take down an entire army?

I am not afraid. I am angry. Angry that this army is here. I would fight this entire camp to save the places it would raze to the ground, but I am old, and I cannot fight and lose. When I was young, my honor would have demanded foolishness, but now it demands patience and wisdom and, most of all, victory. I am glad my companions are with me. I would not survive this place if I were left to my own wishes for too long.

Tomorrow we continue investigating. We’ll find out what to do, yet. I know I’m not the only one that wishes to see this place ruined and this army scattered.



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